


Running on Empty

by IreneADonovan



Series: Remixes 2020 [5]
Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men: Days of Future Past
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Missing Scene, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:34:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25392436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IreneADonovan/pseuds/IreneADonovan
Summary: What happened the night before the Paris Peace Accords.
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Series: Remixes 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1839742
Comments: 6
Kudos: 52
Collections: X-Men Remix Madness 2020





	Running on Empty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [g33kyclassic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/g33kyclassic/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Hollow](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21595765) by [g33kyclassic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/g33kyclassic/pseuds/g33kyclassic). 
  * In response to a prompt by [g33kyclassic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/g33kyclassic/pseuds/g33kyclassic) in the [xmen_remix_madness2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/xmen_remix_madness2020) collection. 



> This is for my friend g33kyclassic. I hope you like my take on your story. 💜

Pain ricocheted through his spine as the chemical connections that kept him walking began to dissolve. It felt much like being shot all over again.

He stumbled, would have gone to his knees had the bed not been close enough to fall on.

The voices were coming back, just a low murmuring in the back of his mind. But they would not long remain so peaceful.

He pushed himself to a sitting position, his half-numb legs responding sluggishly, and eyed the three mini bottles lined up on the nightstand. Not nearly enough for the degree of numbness he craved, not even had he had the blissful silence of the serum to boost him along the way. But the main liquor cabinet was out of reach when his legs were this shaky.

He needed to get Hank, before the voices got louder, before the pain and the rage and the despair overwhelmed him. Before he got sober enough to start feeling again.

Charles braced his feet on the floor, but his leg muscles already felt like limp noodles, and they refused to lift him to a standing position. Damn!

His telepathy was too weak yet to reach Hank, too unfocused, no matter how loud the voices in his head grew. He'd simply have to endure for a few more minutes, until it strengthened.

He hooked an arm under his knees and rolled sideways, pulling his legs up onto the bed with the ease of long practice. And hating that it was that easy, unthinking.

One of the many things Erik had cost him, the most obvious but not the most devastating. And all of them were wounds that wouldn't heal, just scar over.

Erik had cost him everything, ultimately. It all circled back to that day on the beach. Erik deflecting the bullet into his spine, paralyzing him instantly and devastatingly, only to be hit with two deeper wounds to the heart. The loss of his sister, his oldest and closest friend. And the loss of his lover, the man who challenged and engaged him on every level.

It was no wonder Erik was so repulsed by him now. He'd given up, taken the easy way out, silenced the voices when all they did was echo and amplify his pain. He was a drunk and a junkie who didn't care about anything except the next fix that would keep his head and heart numb.

He knew what he was, but he was too tired to care anymore, let alone make a change.

He pushed himself back to a sitting position and wrapped a hand around one of the little bottles of Johnnie Walker Black. He twisted the cap off, downed the contents. The alcohol burned in his empty belly, promising oblivion, a cruel tease that three shots could never deliver on.

Nonetheless he reached for another just as the bedroom door swung open. Hank? Please let it be Hank.

But he wasn't that lucky. He was never that lucky. "Erik."

"Charles."

"What do you want?"

"Can't I want to talk to an old friend?"

"The time to talk was eleven years ago."

"That doesn't mean we can't talk now."

"Yeah. It does." Charles threw himself backward onto the bed, pointedly turning his back to Erik. He knew his lower body was twisted, but the remaining shreds of his pride wouldn't allow him to let Erik see him straightening his legs with his hands.

But of course Erik noticed. "Charles. Your legs—"

"What about them?" Charles asked crossly. Deliberately casual, he tossed his legs out straight, one at a time. Screw his pride. Give Erik a good look at what he'd done.

"I've never seen them like this, when they're—"

"Paralyzed?"

"Yeah."

"You're the one who left." _You would have seen if you'd stayed._

"You sent me away."

Was that what he really believed? Charles resisted the urge to look in Erik's mind — he'd meant what he said about never entering it again. "Are we really going to do this now?"

Erik said nothing. So they were going to do it.

Charles rubbed at his face. "Then bring me a bottle of scotch from the bar. I intend to get thoroughly pissed."

Erik still said nothing, but after a long moment, he walked toward the door.

Charles dragged himself into a proper sitting position and propped a couple of pillows behind his back. The voices were a louder buzz inside his skull; he really ought to just call Hank. But the chance to tell off Erik once and for all stayed his voice, at least for now.

Erik returned with two bottles, one unopened, the other about a quarter-full. He handed the full one to Charles, who opened it impatiently and drank several long swallows.

Thus fortified, he felt a little more able to deal with Erik's presence.

"I came back, you know," Erik said, taking a seat at the end of the bed..

"What?" Charles gave a sharp, disbelieving laugh.

"I came back, after Cuba. You sent me away again."

"I what? When?"

"Three days later. You told me to go. Fuck off, to be precise."

Charles' laugh was bitter. "I have no memory of that. I was high as a kite on pain meds."

"So should I not have believed you?"

Charles took another swig of scotch. "Did you have that abomination on your head?"

"Shaw's helmet? Yeah."

"Then I meant it. That thing is an offense against my nature."

"And the drug is not?"

Charles flinched as if slapped. "The drug grants me peace." But even he didn't believe his words.

"Whatever lets you sleep at night."

Charles' temper snapped. "Whatever lets me sleep? Do you have _any_ idea what it's like living in my skull?"

Erik said nothing, though his pale eyes were wide and wary.

"Let me show you." Charles crashed into Erik's mind with none of his old finesse and shoved every thought and emotion within his range into Erik's mind.

Erik gasped, tried to pull away, but Charles held him fast, stilled his muscles, blocked his nerves. "This is what it's like, to have every mind screaming for your attention, while you're trapped, motionless, helpless."

Erik's aqua-grey eyes were dilated in alarm, but also in understanding. Whatever. Charles didn't really care. "I could do anything I wanted to you right now." A negligent wave of his hand, and Erik moved up to sit beside Charles' hip. "I could make you kiss me. I could make you fuck me. I could make you not care my cock doesn't work." Charles' voice grew almost wistful despite his attempt to hang onto his anger. "I could make you love me."

He let go of Erik's mind as abruptly as he'd seized it. "Get out. Just get out." He shoved at Erik's chest.

But Erik didn't rise. Instead he slipped a hand behind Charles' head and drew him forward into a gentle kiss. Charles tried to fight, to pull away, but Erik held him fast, letting him go only when he was ready to.

Erik's silver-aqua eyes were filled with sorrow as he said, "I've never stopped loving you, and I never will stop." He rose, gave Charles one last look, then exited the hotel bedroom.

Charles continued to stare at the bedroom door for a long time, then he downed a long slug of scotch and called for Hank.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment. This is a tough time for all of us, and a comment, no matter how rambling or how pithy, means more than you can imagine. Kudos are nice, but comments are gold. So please comment! (Even if it's just a 💜.)
> 
> Come join our [Discord](https://discord.gg/XS8V5a8), X-Men X-traordinaire.


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